a place to put things, like a shelf

Making contact! I updated the work calendar which now covers through mid December which felt like a reoccurring reckoning with the year closing. Something about a seasonal shift....... Aggressive squirrels. A week or more (more) ago I was late to dinner at the bosses house because I had to pluck a chin hair and consider my mortality. It's like the bangs all over again. But the moon has been huge, a hot drink is on the horizon, and the dogs bountiful. A fire that gets to be inside soon! And it wouldn't plug in. Note to self: sit outside for about eight minutes and usually feel refurbished. A month as a list: Going back to the crab, L show, even in registrar inbox Sasha Gordon and Major General First in Command Frufru like sake toast, community like pot luck Matching fear with preparation Mountain top charm, kneading seat, pairing with blue Dogs and other companionship Fearless of heat I go to eat the hot star, and other words in a airborne airstream. There's something on the...

Wee!! Three weeks ago I was getting in the lake every day, floating and peeing and reading and painting on rocks and saying summer is most certainly not over and today I swept fallen leaves out of the house, so what is an ending if not a new beginning and over and over again-- all of these cycles happening constantly but at slightly different speeds. Puzzle pieces clicking lately. Major thanks to M&B and their garage of mice and me, me and mice, mice and I am always finding a mouse wherever I go. I have been saying I'm feeling awfully like a very big small rodent. Chew chew chew. It's like I've been fitting so much in lately and somehow things are starting to measure. I'm 26 and splitting wood. I'm focusing on squeezing everything I can out of each lemon even if I'm squeezing eight lemons at once. It's time to bake a tart? It's good to be full, it's good to keep running even when on empty, it's good to take a cat nap and wake up equal parts s...

Fellow shovelers-- Maybe Irma was wrong and time is in fact not on my side.  The rain is pouring outside exactly one window. Yours in a way that won't stop digging, E

Hark! Holy Hot! Here I am months later still facing temperature issues-- something about inverses and equals and opposites. It's all green light and the car windows down and little clippies to keep the hair out of my face. And the light really is green, and so too the ground and the shade and every inch is taken. I feel my Iceland palette be corrupted by the same intense colors of past, and present, and seemingly again future. I'm holding on to those complexities, that dirty paint water. I'm looking back at this little face of my own, so many pasts meeting in the present. Hold it all tight. I feel a strong fondness for all these little color cards and how they have more intuition. Oh a conglomerate of things all happening, all the time, so quick and so slow, all at once. The clock ever ticks on with a rate that seems to be moving towards unnatural. I feel like I'm trying to figure out how to talk about my work again while forgetting that I've been talking about it a...

Dear Bears, I'm coming out of a hibernation of sorts-- not an extended sleep but a disruption from my schedule. After spending the most magical weeks in Iceland, in a remote little blip of a town, I feel a deep affinity for the land and a shock of seeing so much foliage after nothing but short low to the ground mosses. The imagery and the experience will stay with me for _____ (ever? a while? at least so far?). I mean look at this place, no softer bed has ever been made. No better place to lay my head, or the rest of me. It felt so great to be back in a studio space, a dedicated and focused place for making lacking in distractions like comfortable seating or chores or screens. I found that semblance of community I had been missing in my cohabitants, in the mountain peaks, in the birds gone fishin'. I already feel the yearning to return to a bubble that isn't my own... wrapped up in clay and breads and spoons and warm jackets. I have nothing but good things to say about a pl...

The sun shines today! Even though I am sitting inside yet another not-amply-windowed box I know the sun is out today. I went to get a coffee during work yesterday's yesterday not because I even wanted the coffee but because I have been craving sunlight. It seems that every day that I have the plan to be outdoors it is grey lately, and maybe that's just bad foresight. We are dogsitting currently, and it's nice to have a companion around, a door greeter, a cuddlebug with a warmer temperature. Apparently she goes on a hike every day that is at least three miles (must have good heart health!) but indoors is the laziest lounger. I can understand. We also tried re-arranging the furniture again last night but I think it was a mistake. One that can be undone but not without more effort, which nullifies the first effort but you still feel it in your back and bones. Another push pull of the couch into yet another slightly different spot and I think it will be working again. Another t...

Dear world, I have been considering the selfish nature of conversation, how vocalizing or writing or whatever it is to another I inevitably stumble upon something of myself, or at least something that came out of myself, that I will hold onto. This way of discussing, particularly effective in the most long form version that comes from writing letters, where there is ample time to think or not think before you speak, and sit with it before it is heard, reminds/explains to/shows me what I've been keeping inside. Does that render this sort of quasi letter to no one an even more self-centered task? Or am I relieved of the burden of am I talking about myself too much when it's not directed at anyone in particular. This act of writing is more about documenting. It is okay to speak into the nothingness that is everything online. I want to share. N and I went on a trip to New York, brief as time always feels there, yet important. It was nice to step out of life and run the water as lon...